Facing the Arys
by Lasselanta63
Summary: A new threat for Haven calls Torn's friend Hammer from the Guard to face the Arys armies, and new members to join the team - an agent's son is taken hostage byt the enemy - the Wastelanders join the fight, only to have a war of their own. (2nd ch. up!)
1. Chapter 1: A Gathering

Disclaimer: Yep, I am hereby disclaiming everything in this story except my original characters.

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Chapter 1: A Gathering

Hammer left with Torn, motioning for Steff to follow. She did so promptly, striding after them with no more than a glance at the others. Sandra and McCaw locked eyes, then took up positions on opposite sides of the room, lounging in a way that clearly meant they were doing anything but.

Daxter eyed Steff brazenly as she passed, his little rodent tail twitching, apparently oblivious to the air of warning crackling in the den. He furtively shot a glance at Tess, then leant in to whisper conspiratorially to a watchful Jak. "I'd _love _to give her a going-over... what shall we call it, a _personal_ examination." He raised his eyebrows gleefully, then yelped as he was suddenly picked up and slammed hard against the wall. Jak leapt up, yelling, then froze as Sandra used her other hand to press her knife between his eyes. He glared at her and opened his mouth, about to whack the blade away, but quietened when she gave a reassuring smile – he wasn't sure what right in hell she had to go calming him down with a smile, but it bloody well worked – and switched her eyes to the wildly struggling ottsel. Behind her, McCaw watched impassively, his presence somehow calming the other elves as effortlessly as she did Jak. Sandra leaned in close to Daxter's face, her voice light but sincere. "If you ever, _ever_ say anything so disrespectful about Steff again, I swear I will use your entrails as a belt." Daxter blinked at her, then remarkably did nothing but kiss her hand, voice chipper as ever. "My lady, it would be an honour." She half-smiled at the ottsel's resilience, then set him down and went out, using the same door as Hammer and Torn. Tess met her eyes as she left, then moved over to Daxter and gave him a squeeze. He grinned widely. "Hey, toots." "Oh, my wittle Daxi, you are a bad boy, talking about Steff like that. What were you thinking?" Daxter knocked a fist drunkenly against his head. "Actually, I'm not sure I was."

Jak, at his side, smiled broadly. "What a surprise."

* * *

Torn and Hammer walked back into the room a short while later, Steff and Sandra on their heels. Steff broke off when she saw Daxter and Jak, and, smiling a greeting to Keira and Tess, walked over to them She slyly avoided Ashelin, who was glowering at Torn and looked on the verge of stalking over to confront the two 'leaders'. Steff cast an interested glance at the ottsel on Jak's shoulder, then held out her hand to the renegade, looking him straight in the eyes. "Hey. I'm Steff." He took it, not squeezing too hard, but refusing to drop his gaze. "Jak." Steff nodded to him, her eyes not shifting at all. Daxter threw himself backwards to hang by his feet off Jak's right shoulder, looking across the room at Tess and making soft popping noises. "Torn's a good guy, and he trusts you... Jak," she said, smiling as if trying out the sound. Suddenly she wished she hadn't turned her gaze into a challenge. Through Jak's blue eyes she could sense someone watching her, and it wasn't the ever-alert skim of Sandra, or McCaw's intense, observant stare. She almost blushed, but her eyes never wavered. Neither did his. The moment stretched out, getting harder on her every second, and Daxter got louder, absently moving his hand in time with the pops. Steff realised that Jak still held her hand in his, and once she had, immediately regretted it. His skin was warm to the touch – tough, but warm. She considered, then pulled her hand away, changing her stance so that she stood just out of reach, and covertly scanned the room. Ashelin was rising, apparently sick of waiting for Torn to include her... Tess was making faces at Daxter, Sandra and McCaw were talking quietly... Keira. She sat still, turned away from the pair, but her hair was just re-settling itself on her shoulders. Steff felt a pang of guilt, and turned back to Jak with a small smile. He looked on, unreadable. She would have bitten her lip, but that was too easily interpreted. Instead, she glanced at the ottsel again, than at a spot between Jak's eyes. He wouldn't be able to tell she wasn't meeting his gaze, and she couldn't appear to be avoiding it.

"Anyway, tell Daxter that I'll try and get Sandra to scale down a bit." Jak nodded, in no apparent discomfort. "That would help – we've got enough of the threatening types as it is," he replied. "I suppose it's a stupid question, but what the hell did Sandra do to me? I was ready to attack her." Steff twisted her lip. _Okay, so he obviously didn't feel anything. Therefore, you do not have a problem. Relax, Steff._ She managed a fair approximation of her normal voice. "It's an ability her and McCaw and a few others have, something called 'the cloud'. It makes their actions seem normal, or at least understandable, to anyone watching; kind of puts other people in their shoes. I don't know how they do it, but McCaw says it's a trick of belief, whatever the hell that means." Her eyes unfocused as she tried desperately to concentrate on something other than this outrageously good-looking, sexy, damn annoying, already taken guy standing right in front of her. Jak, unaware of the mild chaos he had caused, studied her intently. So intently, in fact, that he almost lost control of his thoughts as well. Her eyes, locked with his for so long... They were a warm hazel that reminded him of nights in log cabins in Sandover, and with her, those nights would be— _No!_ He growled mentally, part of him shocked that he could think that. _I've been with Daxter too long._ He forced himself to look for Keira, and his eyes found her sitting on a bench on the other side of the room, leaning over to talk to Tess. _That's better._ Now he could almost believe that Steff didn't exist.

As he watched, Keira turned and smiled at him, then motioned for him to get the horny little creature hanging off his shoulder. Jak glanced at Daxter and poked him gently, but the ottsel only swatted distantly at his hand. "Leave me alone, Jak. I'm dreaming sweet, sweet dreams." _Yeah, right, like that'll stop me._ Jak poked him again, hard this time. Daxter yelped like he'd been stung, and flung himself on Jak's face, eyes wide. "Why did you do that to me??? My dreams, my poor sugared dreams! No, don't tell me – I know. You were _jealous_. Well, _I_ don't need to deal with _you_." He flounced over to Tess, throwing himself on her lap. Steff, startled out of her thoughts, laughed, earning a self-important glare from Daxter and Jak's undeniably approving grin.

* * *

Torn nodded at Hammer in agreement, scanning the roomful of elves. "This could work." McCaw, Hammer's tall, dark, and relatively handsome right-hand man, seemed to have set aside his hawk-like silence and was discussing gun upgrades with Sandra. Tess, beside her, was staring moon-eyed at Daxter. Keira was unusually quiet, probably missing Jak. Jak... Torn frowned. Jak and Steff had their hands clasped and looked as if they were having something very like a staring contest. Well, if they were, Jak won, and Torn shifted his attention to something far more interesting, something he was particularly fond of – Ashelin. He smiled. Hammer gave him an appraising look out of the corner of his eye, then rose to meet Ashelin as she approached. "Governor." She softened her glare for the man, clasping both his big hands in hers, and gave him a warm smile. "Good to see you alive, Hammer." She didn't say anything of the perils he'd faced to stay that way – it was something they all lived with. "Now, what's this new threat?" Hammer reported the trouble with a grave face: Ashelin's grew steadily paler as he talked, and when he stopped Torn slammed his knife point-first into the table, snarling. "She betrayed us? Why?"

"The invaders had her son," Hammer replied, "At their camp out in the Wastelands. The leader threatened to kill him if she didn't talk."

"Did they have proof?"

He nodded. "Sent through the viewscreen. It was definitely Jared, but we didn't get any clues to the camp's location." Torn narrowed his eyes. "I'll get my agents on it – they can get the job done." Ashelin's face was shadowed. "I told Aliceyn to take him away," she said quietly. Torn paused, looking at her uncertainly, but before he could make a move she gathered herself and looked at Hammer with hard eyes. "What's the damage?"

"The Arys riders know our numbers, and the location of some outlying dens. They know we have dealings with the Wastelanders – I have already sent word to them," he said quickly, in response to the duo of mounting glares. "They are well aware of the danger." Ashelin's face cleared and she nodded gratefully, half-consciously moving so she stood beside Torn. He shifted as if to give her space, then reconsidered and stayed where he was, his side pressed up against hers. Ashelin scanned the room, seeming not to notice. Torn let himself be aware of her for a few seconds, savouring the closeness, then followed her gaze. The groups had changed while they spoke: Keira, Jak, Daxter and Tess were laughing madly at something that Torn didn't want to understand, and Sandra and Steff were talking playfully over a game of King's Ransom. McCaw sat a respectful way off from the two, casting interested glances at both players as he half-consciously checked his knife in its sheath. The small room, a couple of streets away from Headquarters, looked bare save for three tables and two fold-down beds, but it held cupboards full of maps, guns and ammunition, and no less than three hidden exits. The one window was blacked out and barred, but wouldn't at this time let in anything more menacing then moonlight. Torn consciously amended the thought – it was what it would let out that was the problem. _And we don't need any more problems._ He looked at Hammer for a second. "Are these agents of yours up for this? The Arys aren't people we've faced before." The big raised his eyebrows in amazement. "You doubt it? I wouldn't have them on my team if they couldn't handle themselves." He motioned to Steff, who was grinning at a stone-faced Sandra. Apparently she was good at cards. McCaw glanced over at them, then back to the game. "Steff there was dumped on the streets when she was 10. I met her a few years later when she tried to join the Krimzon Guard." Torn's features tightened in surprise. "Lucky her." They both knew that the Baron did not approve of women in his army. "Yep," Hammer agreed simply. "But she's quick, Torn, and smart. Understands people easy – one of the best damn seconds we've got, and like a demon with a gun. Now, Sandra, she's ruthless. Doesn't flinch at anything – not threats of death, not torture, not anything. She's tight, can think on her own, can lead when it comes down to it. She could go through Hell smirking." The woman they were discussing scowled as her turn came, tossing a card straight on the discard pile. Suddenly her head flicked up, and she turned and looked straight at Hammer. They couldn't possibly have heard, but she frowned at him before turning her back again. Hammer smiled. "And she's loyal."

There was another roar of laughter from the other table, and Daxter mimed... well, actually, Torn had no idea what in hell he was doing. He shook his head, laughing quietly. Ashelin, on his other side, had looked too, but quickly leaned around the Underground leader to speak to Hammer. Torn didn't say anything, not trusting his voice at that moment. He tried not to look at the curve of her back and hips, but she was almost...

"What about him?" Ashelin asked quietly, gesturing to McCaw. Hammer eyed the man rising to double-check his gear, face still except for a small smile. "McCaw? He's my right-hand man, the best spy the Underground has – stealthy, fast, and intelligent enough to know what he's seeing. A bit edgy, of course, but I'd trust him with my life." Ashelin straightened, satisfied, then frowned when she caught Torn's eyes on her. There was no time for that. She scowled. "We're in this deep."


	2. Chapter 2: Scattered

Chapter 2: Scattered

Devan and Gabriel stood side by side on the top of the wall, looking over miles of dust and rocks toward the city they'd once called home. Haven stood between them and the setting sun, its huge shadow stretching back and almost engulfing the well-hidden Wastelander outpost. Devan lifted a tanned arm to shade her face, then moved her sky-blue eyes upwards to her brother. Bent forward the way she was, her twin towered over her by almost a foot, but in reality the difference was no more than an inch. They shared the same copper hair – Devan's reaching to her chin, Gabriel's in dreadlocks back from his face – and were of similar build, both tall, muscular and without a spare ounce of fat on their lean bodies.

Gabriel raised a hand to a cord around his neck, fingering a rusted key. It had once opened the door to their home in Haven, and he kept it against the day they would return. He had thought he would make the journey once the Baron had been eliminated, but with this new Metalhead threat his command needed him. Devan often went backwards and forwards, though, sharing her hard-earned desert expertise with the Underground: she had even given Torn leave to use their old home as a den, a decision Gabriel whole-heartedly supported. She had known he would, of course – as twins, they didn't often see things differently. _Except for symbols_, he mused. Gabriel himself carried weapons given to him by their deceased parents: his father's Peace Maker and his mother's long knives. He also had five other knives from men who had died while under his command, all of them friends, and a lizard tooth from Devan's first kill, inscribed with their shared birthday. In comparison, his sister said she didn't need tokens.

Gabe glanced down at her. She had returned her gaze to the horizon, and was frowning. He followed her eyes. "Sandstorm." She nodded. "I'll go," she said lightly, giving her brother a quick, tight hug before swinging down into the passageway below. "Tam!" The lanky soldier looked up from his maps. "Devan?"

"There's a sandstorm heading for the meeting place. Tell Torn I'll come straight to him." Tam grinned, already pulling out his communicator. "Give him hell from me, Dev," he said, and the red-head smiled at him before heading down to the supply room to stock up.

On the wall, Gabe looked out into the twilight and sung in a deep, dark voice the rhyme they had known since birth.

_"The sun always rises,  
__The rain will soon come.  
__Onward we go,   
__For those who have fallen,  
__And know this:   
You will be avenged."_

* * *

The communicator crackled. [Torn? Come in, Torn. We need a sign.]

Ashelin reached over to pick up the device. "Hey Torn, the com's working." The Underground leader lifted his head from his hands, giving Ashelin a quick grin as he took it from her. {Torn here.} They heard laughter. [Give the password.] {I don't need to give the password. What's going on?} [Devan said there's a sandstorm headed for the meeting place, so she's coming straight to you.] Torn rubbed his eyes. {Anything else?} [That's it. Be safe. Out.] The communicator clicked off, and Torn twisted to stuff it in his rucksack. "If Devan leaves now, she'll be here within an hour." Ashelin gave him an odd look and stood, studying his back and not bothering to point out that she obviously knew that already - the Governor was the only reason the red-head was allowed within city walls. Ashelin watched Torn's muscles shift as he reached for his gun; he was gorgeous. "Torn..." He turned, and she looked away, thinking the better of it. They could wait. "Nothing."

* * *

Sandra stood side on to the wall, an empty hall stretching out between her and the painted practice target she aimed to hit. The tall blonde lifted her gun, shot, kept shooting, then grunted when every bullet found the centre. It was a good outcome, but her heart wasn't in it - and the reason stood a few paces off, reloading a battered but efficient Blaster.

Steff had been practicing in the range long before Sandra arrived, and hadn't taken a break in the two hours since. She looked mechanic; shooting, reloading, shooting, reloading, changing guns every half-hour or so, then shooting some more. "Steff?" She ignored her. Sandra growled and started towards her friend. "Steff! Talk to me." The woman blinked at her and slipped her gun away, a dazed frown on her face. "I—," she started, then abruptly cut off as McCaw opened the door to the hall and slipped in. The lean, dark spy paused, taking a long look at both women, before walking quickly over to pull Steff into a close hug. She tensed, but he held her tight. "Hey, gorgeous," he said in a soft voice. "I know something's bothering you – don't try to deny it – and I am dying to know what it is. Are you going to tell me?" The smaller woman buried her head in his long curls for a few seconds, but eventually Sandra heard a muffled laugh and she stood straight, shaking her head. Steff still looked pale to her team-mates, but other people probably wouldn't notice and her voice sounded stronger. "I don't think I'm going to tell anyone. Are there any orders from Hammer?"

* * *

The door swung closed behind Jak as he entered his room in the palace. The only light came from the full moon shining in through two windows on the east side, but that was bright enough to illuminate the renegade as he threw himself full-length onto a wide bed in the middle of the floor. His face was still. _Keira_. The thought beckoned up the same warm, heartening feelings in him as always before - but that was the problem. They were exactly the same feelings, neither more nor less. The two of them had gone through so much in the last few years that he had expected something else to be added, something that made her more than a friend. It hadn't come. And why did he see Steff instead of her when he closed his eyes? He barely knew Steff. _We've only talked once. _Jak squashed the urge to roll over, forcing himself to lie straight on his back. The challenge briefly took his mind from the two girls, and what he wouldn't even admit to himself – that Steff's hazel eyes had affected him, that his behaviour afterwards had served as an escape. He kept catching himself glancing in her direction. _The way she looked..._ He was restless, frustrated, and furious at feeling frustrated. His eyes narrowed, blue turned silver in the moonlight. _I want Keira, not some goddamn agent from the Underground! Not Steff! What has she done to make me fantas... to make me want her?_

"Jak! Oi, Jakky boy!" Daxter dashed in the suddenly open door, leaping up to pirouette lightly on Jak's chest. The ottsel didn't deign to notice his friend's glare. "We are summoned by the great and merciful Torn, the tattooed wonder, to meet on the wall. Come!"

* * *

Devan rose from her position among the rocks, shaking dust from her cloak. It was a cold night with a bright moon - if she had turned back, she would have been just able to see the pillar of rock that hid Gabriel's outpost. Haven's ring-wall rose high above her, tall and black in the shadows, stretching up towards the sky like the castles of long ago. She almost felt the old dread at being so close, within reach of Krimzon Guards who would bring her defenceless before the Baron. Although the dictator was long gone, his memory made Devan check her weapons – she reached to secure the small throwing spears on her back, the spiked mace looped at her belt, to ease her pair of long knives in their scabbards. The daggers hidden on her body didn't need checking; she could feel them there, keenly sharp and eager for the fight. The dusty red-head glanced back a single time, sky-blue eyes calm, then walked silently on towards the city.

* * *

Jared stared numbly at the darkness, his young body bruised from the rattling of his crate over the Wastelands' rocky ground. He didn't know what carried it, only that every day it moved forward, jarring, hurting. He didn't know what had happened to his mother after she saw him on the viewscreen, only that she was probably dead. He hoped not, and a few tears leaked out at the thought - tears that were coming less and less as his capture by the Arys stretched out. He should have been rescued by now, he thought dimly. Rescued or killed. _Why am I still alive?_

* * *

Torn leaned forward over a wide map of the city and Wastelands, eyes sharp. "You," he said, indicating McCaw with a slight nod. "The Arys army is somewhere south of here. I want you to meet up with my agents and see if there is some means of reasoning with these people. If there isn't, you're to slow them down any way you can. One of the Wastelanders, a—" Torn cut off sharply as the hallway door opened, then allowed himself a small grin when the very woman he had about to name walked in. The others tensed, seeing her weapons, but he waved a hand to relax them. "This is Devan. McCaw, she'll be with you." The tall spy nodded at her, dark eyes gleaming, and Sandra cast a discerning glance at the equally tall red-head. She looked tough, but McCaw wasn't one of the things muscle could stop. _Watch yourself, Wastelander, or he'll make you trip over your own bootstraps._ "Sandra, Tess, Steff and Daxter – you'll deal with the new recruits. Keira, you know what you're doing, but make sure to see Vin about the shield wall." Torn paused, eyeing Jak. "The rest of you, prepare for battle."


End file.
